


Nothing Sweeter Than My Baby

by callistawolf



Series: Porsches and Sunsets: Road Trip Fics [2]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, shower smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-17
Updated: 2015-05-17
Packaged: 2018-03-30 22:10:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3953623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callistawolf/pseuds/callistawolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Oliver's birthday, which he's forgotten but Felicity hasn't.  She has a present for him when they wake up on the third morning of their road trip together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing Sweeter Than My Baby

**Author's Note:**

> Happy 30th Birthday, Oliver Queen! It makes me so happy to realize he's finally getting a decent birthday this year and that he's celebrating it with none other than Felicity Smoak.

Oliver woke up to the sound of surf pounding on rocks.  He could feel the breeze from the open windows blowing across his face, cooling the room that was already warmed from the steadily rising sun.  He was still getting used to the warm wash of contentment that flooded him each time he woke up with her at his side.  There was something _more_ today, something niggling at the back of his mind but he was still too fuzzy with sleep to pin it down.  

He sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, and looked down next to him to where Felicity still lay, fast asleep.  She lay on her stomach, her arms tucked under her pillow, her hair spread out in tousled waves.  Her back was exposed to his view, the sheet pooled at her waist and giving him only the slightest glimpse of the dimples at the small of her back.  He was tempted to trace a finger down her spine, pull the sheet down further so he could see the way the dawning sunlight made the globes of her ass glow.  

Instead, Oliver thought he’d let her sleep while he got a shower.  He’d kept her up quite a bit last night, after all.  The novelty of having her in his bed wasn’t even remotely close to wearing off and he was insatiable for her still.  But, maybe after his shower, she would be awake and he could crawl back in bed with her and kiss every inch of her pale, soft, delicious skin.  Hell, yes, he loved the idea of that. 

With a sigh, he got up and crossed to the attached bathroom.  They were staying at a small hotel, just down the road from Big Sur, California.  They’d stopped there yesterday afternoon and instead of going out to look at the sights as they’d planned, they’d ended up staying in bed all afternoon.  While he’d love to say that they’d spent that time screwing each other’s brains out, they’d both been so exhausted from the long hours on the road that they’d fallen asleep.  When they woke up, it was too late to go out to dinner and they had to make due with some of the snacks they’d purchased at a gas station earlier that day.  Then, of course, they’d screwed each other’s brains out.  

Now, Oliver felt more rested than he’d felt in eight years. It was going to take him some time to get used to feeling so content.  The bathroom was lavishly appointed for how small this inn was and was one of the biggest selling points for Felicity.  As soon as she saw the whirlpool tub positioned under the windows that overlooked the cliffs, she’d declared that they would be spending at least two nights here.  But right now, Oliver bypassed the tub for the shower stall.  There were several shower heads and some excellent shampoo samples to partake of and he was anxious to feel the water beating down on him.  

He’d only been under the spray for a few minutes before he heard a noise in the bathroom.  He opened his eyes and tried to peer out through the frosted glass.  He could see a shape moving closer, a shape he was quickly becoming addicted to. 

“Felicity?” he called out. 

“Who else would it be?” came the amused reply. 

He was about to ask her what she was up to when the door to the shower stall opened and she slipped inside.  She was gloriously naked, her eyes hooded with the remnants of sleep and perhaps, if he was lucky enough, something else.  Oliver swallowed hard.  

“Well, hello there,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around her and dragging her under the spray with him.  She looped her arms around his neck and raised up on her toes to press a kiss to his lips. 

“Are you here to save water with me?  California is having a drought, you know,” he said, peppering small kisses along her jaw. 

“I know, I saw the info card on the counter,” she replied.  “So I thought I’d come in here and wash your back for you.”

“Oh? And what about you?  Don’t you need your back washed?” He could think of other parts of her he wouldn’t mind washing either… 

“Maybe later,” she said as she took hold of his arms and turned him around so he was facing away from her. The shower beat against his chest, protecting her from the spray.  “But right now, this is about you.” 

Oliver had to admit that sounded pretty interesting. She reached for a bottle of sample shower gel on the ledge and a moment later, her hands began to smooth over his back.  He gave himself over to it, feeling how she pressed into his muscles, rubbing until they relaxed under her touch.  Her sudsy hands moved over him, down lower until he felt her caressing his ass.  Oliver stifled a groan; good lord, since when had that been a _thing_ for him? 

“You have a fantastic ass,” she said, her tone matter of fact.  “I’ve always thought so.  You’d be wearing those khaki pants of yours, or suit trousers and just… damn.  Sometimes I’d be worried that you’d catch me staring.”

“I did, a couple times,” he admitted.  He remembered each incident in vivid technicolor.  Felicity’s admiration of his body was one of the things that never failed to boost him up when he was in a mood, actually, back in the days when he didn’t have much of a reason to be happy. 

Her hands stilled on his ass, cupping the cheeks lightly.  “You didn’t.”  She sounded somewhat horrified which he found especially amusing considering where her hands were currently resting. 

“I absolutely did.  But to be fair, I checked out your ass _constantly_.”  

She moved again, now almost kneading.  “Oh really?” 

Oliver chuckled.  “Oh, yes.  That tight grey dress of yours? I can’t even tell you how many times I dreamed about you in that dress.  And stripping you out of it.”

“Really.”  Her voice lowered and her hands moved from his ass, around his hips to coast over his lower stomach.  Oliver sucked in a breath. She stroked at the taut skin there before reaching down and taking ahold of his growing erection.  Her hands were still soapy enough that they slipped along his length.  He groaned as she tightened her grip.  Just like that, he was hard as a rock.

“Felicity…”

“Shh…,” she said softly.  “Let me do this for you… birthday boy.”

She began to work him in earnest, gripping him tightly and swiping her thumb repeatedly over the swollen head of his cock.  As such it took him a moment for her words to catch up with him.  Birthday… Oliver struggled to think as she pumped her fist around him, adding a little twist as she moved and his hips automatically pumped against her.  

“Wha—?” he tried, gasping as she moved her fist faster, gripping him tighter, his hard flesh slipping between her slick fingers.  

Finally, he had to give up thinking and just give himself over to the sensations.  She had one hand working him furiously, the other was gripping his hip tightly.  He could feel her bare breasts pressed up against his back, her nipples hard and pebbled.  He could feel her soft belly against his ass.  Her lips, pressed kisses along his shoulder blades.  It was all… so much.  So right, so perfect… His eyes slammed shut and his mind was filled with the vision of her from the night before, riding him.  Her breasts bouncing, her head thrown back, her hair glowing in the moonlight.  The moans she’d made.  The way she’d felt, her walls surrounding him, squeezing him… 

With a shout, he came hard. Felicity continued to work him through it, her touch gentling until she stilled and released him,  Her fingers stroked his hips as she continued to kiss his back.  Oliver spun around and grabbed her face in his hands, kissing her desperately.  She opened for him right away, giving back just as good as she got.  When she sucked on his tongue, he felt his mind spin again and knew it wasn’t going to be long before he was ready to go again. 

He drew back, panting.  “Wow.”

She grinned saucily.  “Was that a great birthday gift or what?”

“But it’s not…” He paused.  Wait.  “It is, isn’t it?  It’s my birthday today.”

The water had grown cool and Felicity reached around him to turn off the water while he continued to gape at her.  “I didn’t even remember that.  How did _you_?” 

“Oliver.”  She fixed him with a look.  “I know a lot about you.  You don’t forget anything about me, why would you expect me to forget anything about you?” 

His birthday.  He hadn’t had a happy birthday in so many years that the last good birthday he’d had felt like another lifetime.  He kissed her again; he couldn’t _not_.  It was brief, though and he drew back to rub his nose along hers.  

“God, I love you.”

“I love you too, Oliver.”  

He wrapped his arms around her, noticing now how cool her arms were.  “Let’s get out of her, get dried off and then I’m going to show you exactly how much I love you, Ms. Smoak.”

She bit her lip but she was smiling.  “But today is about _you…_ ” she protested. 

“What makes you think that making you scream out my name doesn’t bring me pleasure.” 

Her eyes darkened at that promise and she stepped away, opening the shower door and grabbing a towel and throwing it at him before grabbing one for herself and dabbing at her hair as she backed out of the shower stall. 

“Alright, big shot.  Last one to the bed is a rotten egg.”  

Just as he darted forward to slip past her, she threw her towel in his face and he could hear the slap of her feet as she ran across the bathroom towards the room.  Laughing, Oliver threw down both towels and chased after her.  He may as well have just turned twenty instead of thirty for as young as she made him feel.  And, if he had his way, they’d have fifty-six more beautiful years together. 


End file.
